the choicest piece of my life

We went to the wedding of my childhood best friend on Saturday. That’s her, up there on the left. We’re – um – helping my parents decorate the Cristmas tree. I’m the middle, and darling sister is on the right, probably wondering when she can escape and hang tinsel on the cat. My friend and I have known one another for 24 years, a number that amazes me – we lived across the street from one another as children. She was the first real friend I ever had. We were inseparable from the time we were four until we were fifteen or sixteen. Here we are again, gawky and thirteen –

I’m on the left this time, darling sister is in the middle, and she is on the right. I have no idea who wrangled us into dresses, but apparently their will wasn’t strong enough to stop me from flexing for the camera and using my poor, dear sister as an armrest.

I called my friend’s mother “mom” and was tortured by her siblings like they were my own. I went on family trips and she slept at my house once a week during summer vacations. While we have managed to stay in touch since adolescence had its way with our relationship, we’re not as tight as we used to be. We’ve had our disagreements and our stupid patches of the sort of drama that one can only generate between the ages of 17 and 25. I hope that we’ve managed to forgive.

Because life seems to thrive on coincidences, my friend and I got married three years apart, almost to the day, and held our wedding receptions in the same place. So, on Saturday, I found myself back at the site of my own wedding, just shy of my third anniversary, watching someone who participated in some of my very first clear memories take the big, gorgeous step into being a married woman. She was one of the happiest, most stunning brides I’ve ever seen and I was so, so glad that I could be a part of their day.

Weddings are more fun after you’re married, primarily because marriage is almost impossible to comprehend unless you’ve experienced it yourself. The longer my marriage goes on, the more I realize that this is an indescribably complex, dense, and beautiful institution, surpassing explanation. If done well (and there are countless ways to do it well), it creates remarkable space in one’s life, peace, and a delicious sense of belonging, of truly owning something and sharing it with another. It’s hard and it’s the most fun I’ve ever had. The officiant at our ceremony spoke about marriage as process without an end, as something that the couple has to remake over again every day. When the officiant at my friend’s ceremony said nearly the exact same thing, I had to resist the urge to either high-five Dave or applaud.

Below are a couple of pictures of Dave and I, three years ago this week. The first is one of my favorite pictures from our wedding, because I’m actually smiling, not just placating the photographer. Of course, I’m actually smiling because Dave’s making fun of the photographer, so he did technically help out, but…

I hope my friend and her husband learn all of the things that we have so far and much, much more. Here’s to brand new and making it new every day.